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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294565">wish you had stayed (i never planned on you changing your mind)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextstopparis/pseuds/nextstopparis'>nextstopparis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>honey, i love you [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brief mentions of other characters - Freeform, Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Episode: s01e05 Lancelot, M/M, at least it's meant to be lolllll, ive been in arlance hell and i am going insane ok, leave me. alone.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:27:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextstopparis/pseuds/nextstopparis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur does not watch Lancelot leave.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lancelot/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>honey, i love you [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>wish you had stayed (i never planned on you changing your mind)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>welcome to arlance/rarepair h e l l. i, with all due respect, <i>hate</i> it here :D &lt;3 also, yes, this is another story with taylor swift's "last kiss" lyrics as the title omg jsoifjsolfij leave me alone. as always: this is 110% self indulgent so <i>obviously</i> its a bit. idk. overdone (not the quality, mind you. that's still Shit). there's one (1) scene that's a little bit nsfw, but it's not explicit or anything. so, just a warning for that.</p>
<p>n e way i hope u enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>and i hope the sun shines</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>and it's a beautiful day</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>you can plan for a change in weather and time</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>but i never planned on you changing your mind.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>Arthur meets Lancelot on a sunny, Thursday afternoon. He has never heard such a ridiculous name before - well, perhaps once. Leave it to Merlin to have friends with equally odd names - but then again, he tends to avoid nobles’ sons when he has no obligations to do otherwise. They irritate him quite a lot.</p>
<p>Lancelot, though, is - different, somehow. He lowers his eyes, with as much reverence as a commoner might, when Arthur first addresses him. He saved Merlin's life - maybe even risked his own in the process. He's different from the countless men Arthur has encountered and sent away; nobility and humility do not coincide often, if ever. Lancelot seems to be good, naturally chivalrous in a way that Arthur usually has to beat into his knights, while he beats their entitlement and self importance out.</p>
<p>He’s - different.</p>
<p>It throws Arthur off, for a split second. Intrigues him in a way that should be below his position. It makes him unsure, which in turn makes him angry; perhaps that's why, when Lancelot falls to the ground after receiving a slap he doesn’t deserve, Arthur feels a spark of personal satisfaction ignite. </p>
<p>But then, when he stands, defiant and sincere, and tells Arthur that he’s <em> ready now </em> , Arthur pauses. He doesn’t know this feeling - this grudging admiration and hope and wonder - but, it’s not - unpleasant. It makes his heartbeat quicken a little and gives volume to a little voice in the back of his head telling him to <em> pursue this, see where it goes </em>. </p>
<p>So he tells Lancelot to clean out the stables (all of his knights did the same or something similar; it's meant to be a test of character. Arthur will not knight men he cannot teach humility to. There is no privilege of rank in battle), and when Arthur watches him walk away from the corner of his eye, he finds himself hoping that Lancelot <em> is </em> all he seems. </p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>A day later he finds Lancelot sharpening some swords, and firmly ignores the sudden stuttering of his heart. Sunlight catches in Lancelot's dark hair, and the wind rustles his loose, white tunic. For a moment, Arthur's breath escapes him. </p>
<p>They fight, right there in the lower towns, and it’s <em> fun </em>. Enjoyable in a way it hasn’t been before - or, at least, for a very long time - for Arthur. Lancelot is easy to bait, easy to goad and tease and play with. He’s good, too, which makes it both a challenge, and all the more exhilarating. </p>
<p>When Lancelot falls back on the hay, chest heaving and breath coming out in hard puffs, Arthur stares at him for a moment and thinks that he’s never seen someone so - beautiful before, really. Not like Lancelot. His hair looks soft, littered with a little hay, and the prince wants to run his fingers through it, just to see if it really is. </p>
<p>They fight, and then just as it seems to be about to escalate, Arthur stops and turns to leave. That's all the convincing he needs, anyway. The sudden fullness in his chest might begin tearing him apart if he stays, to be honest.</p>
<p>He’s excited for their upcoming match - Lancelot's final test - and hopeful rather than wishful that Lancelot is exactly what Arthur wa - what Camelot needs. </p>
<p>Of course, the creature comes before he can bask in the wondrously giddy feeling that tingles at the base of his spine, but he doesn’t mourn it. It feels like something inescapable; a constant that just comes with Lancelot.</p>
<p>A feeling that he can rely on. </p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>Lancelot tricks him, during his final test, and Arthur is so -</p>
<p>- pleased, confused, happy, filled with this new simmering feeling at the base of his stomach that he can’t bring himself to explain -</p>
<p> - proud, that he can hardly breathe. </p>
<p>During the knighting ceremony, Lancelot continuously seeks out his eyes, and Arthur smiles, every time blue meets brown, and finds that can never look away. As if he’d ever want to, anyway - Lancelot glows like this: in a sunlit room, at the centre of attention, with a disbelieving yet happy smile tugging at his lips. Their eyes barely leave each other, and Lancelot feels like the sun itself: warm and bright and all encompassing. </p>
<p>He looks good, being where he belongs; being right where Arthur can see him.</p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>The feast in Lancelot’s honour is good; the wine is rich with flavour and the company is better than it has ever been. He <em> likes </em> Lancelot, in more than just a he's good-looking, good-with-a-sword, the-epitome-of-what-Arthur-believes-a-knight-should-be kind of way. He likes the way his arm feels pressed to Arthur’s own; likes the way he speaks warmly about unimportant things, how he can make Arthur willing - wanting - to listen to everything about them. Arthur likes how Lancelot smiles, softer than anyone he knows, and listens intently when he speaks. </p>
<p>Lancelot's a lot funnier than he originally imagined him to be, too. His jokes catch Arthur off guard - everything about him does - and startle him into throwing his head back in laughter.</p>
<p>He likes how Lancelot surprises him; likes the way Lancelot looks at him even more. It fills his chest and makes that other, old feeling of something simmering in his stomach return. </p>
<p>He likes the way it makes him drunk - in a different way than the wine, but also not really.</p>
<p>That night he learns that he likes Lancelot's hands, too; his rough palms and clever and gentle fingers as they run over him, press in him, grip him, and hold him. He likes the way Lancelot's some form of a breathing contradiction - how he presses Arthur down with a bruising grip while kissing him gently; how his breaths come in soft puffs against Arthur's cheek, Arthur’s neck, Arthur’s chest, while teasing him mercilessly. </p>
<p>He also likes the way Lancelot stays close, after they’ve both come down from the high of their releases, and squeezes his left hip - a secret language Arthur didn’t know he knew how to decipher. </p>
<p>Arthur does not like how Lancelot refuses to stay the night. </p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>The next day, as he watches Lancelot kneel in front of his father's throne, pleading guilty of fraud, he feels the lie like a punch to the stomach. The pleasant simmering that burned bright the night before is replaced by nausea, and Arthur is almost numb from the dread and betrayal and pain that threatens to tear him to shreds. He wants to punch Lancelot, to shake him, to ask <em> why </em> and <em> how could you </em> . The fact that he wants to hold him close, as close as they were last night, and tell him that i <em> t’s okay that he lied </em> to Arthur, <em> really </em>, makes him feel like a fool. It hurts, to feel this, but especially because it’s Lancelot’s fault. He thought they’d had an understanding, a -</p>
<p>But of course not. They’ve known each other for a few days. Of course Lancelot does not feel the same; all he wanted was to be a knight.</p>
<p>And as much as that hurts, too, it's more painful to watch him being led away to the dungeons, looking back at Arthur until the doors close and he’s no longer able to. </p>
<p>Maybe that’s why he tries to appeal to his father. Maybe that’s why he tries to make some difference, make Uther reduce his sentencing.</p>
<p>That has to be the reason, because his father is right. He's right to ask how he can trust someone who has lied to him. He’s right to ask, and Arthur knows he is, but all he can do is look down and remain silent, because tears are prickling at the back of his eyes, and he can’t breathe with the knowledge that he <em> shouldn’t trust him </em>, but does, anyway. It’s unfair that Lancelot has taken such a large part of him without giving anything of himself in return.</p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>He tells himself that it's his fear that he won't see another day, his anger at his father for not seeing sense, and the residual pain from Lancelot's lies gripping his heart, that leads him to the dungeons two hours before - what feels to be - his final battle. Nothing else.</p>
<p>“I should’ve known. How could I have been so stupid? You don't sound like a knight, you don’t even look like a knight.” and it’s true, too - Lancelot’s kindness and the way he’s softly spoken aren't characteristic of a noble at all; the way he’s humble and rarely completely clean, too. Everything about him, physically, screams commoner, but Arthur hadn't even thought to look. He should've known that first second, really, because he always hate's nobles on sight, but Lancelot - Lancelot, he didn't.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” <em> are you? </em></p>
<p>“I’m sorry, too. Because Lancelot, you fight like a knight. And I need—“ except this isn’t about him, is it? The only time anything has ever been about <em> him </em> - not his rank, not his duties, not his responsibilities - was last night, when Lancelot had asked him if <em> this is okay </em> , and how he <em> wants to do this </em>? But last night was — last night. Over.</p>
<p>“—Camelot needs.” It comes off too bitter, but he already gave himself away. There is nothing left to lose, anyway.</p>
<p>Lancelot walks towards him, gets too close, and Arthur cannot bear it; this pain and fear and <em> longing </em>. So he steps away, turns his back. He tells Lancelot he's releasing him, that he needs to go. This is the last mercy he can grant him before he—</p>
<p>Arthur does not watch Lancelot leave.</p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>When he wakes up to find the griffin killed, with no one standing but Lancelot somehow there, Arthur feels dizzy with disbelief and joy. His heart whispers that he came back for <em>him</em>, and his legs carry him all the way to the horse that Lancelot’s just come down from.</p>
<p>He’s high from the elation of both having Lancelot back, and being alive, and every thing he does feels as if he's watching himself do it. Arthur feels his arms reach out, but Lancelot beats him to it - gripping his waist and cupping his cheek and kissing him. It’s bliss, really - this feeling in his chest - and he vows to do whatever he can to keep this. </p>
<p>So he fights his father, yells and argues and doesn’t give up, doesn’t give in. And then, just when it feels like, maybe, his father will comply—</p>
<p>“I've come to bid you farewell.” But no, no - it can't be. Not after Arthur got him back—</p>
<p>“What is this, Lancelot?” <em> come on </em> , he doesn’t say, <em> take it back, say nothing, tell me you wish to defend yourself, come </em> on. <em>We need more time.</em></p>
<p>“I must start again, far from here. Then, maybe one day, fate shall grant me another chance to prove myself a worthy knight of Camelot.” </p>
<p>And suddenly it’s unfair all over again, because all Arthur wants to do is beg <em> what about me </em> , yet all he can do is say <em>but, L</em> <em> ancelot, you’ve already proved that to us, </em> and hope that it is enough. He wonders if the desperate <em> stay </em> is just as loud and ringing and so very clear to Lancelot as it is to him. </p>
<p>He decides, as his heart shrivels and falls to the floor while he watches Lancelot walk out, that <em> no, he couldn’t have heard </em>, because surely Lancelot would not have left Arthur if he did. Not after he’d refused to go only hours before. Not when they finally had a chance to -  </p>
<p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p>
<p>The next morning, just as he didn’t watch Lancelot walk out his rooms or the dungeon, Arthur also does not watch him ride away.</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading! i thought this would be, like, 500 words tops, but guess not lolol. i really do hope it wasn't too regretful an experience, though! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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